Note From My Moleskine #11

August 31, 2009

6 August 2009
Latham, NY

No, sit,
stay.
The horses will be there to drag
your earnings into the smoke-veiled
ether tomorrow,
or any other time you seek
to give in to chance.
There is something here–
amongst the buoys, the Stewart’s
nightcrawler cups, the choking
water chestnuts–
that you will miss if you don’t
stop to give it time to
splice again.
See the barge across the river
motionless, collecting mussels,
baring its rope-stays to the
sun, dressed in the
municipal yellow that excites you.
Listen to the spin-cast reel
expel its line from behind
the fisher’s sun-brella.
Smell the sweet rotting water,
full of things naturally going
back to the way they were,
tinged with the town dump,
full of earth-farts and blue
flames.
Feel the hard stone of
god-knows-what-this-was
on your skinny ass-bones.
Look! Kayakers. You are jealous.
You plan to emulate.
See what you have learned
by putting the cart before
the horse?
You have learned your own jealousy.
Jealousy can be good if you
eat it like breakfast,
and turn its energy into
a part of you.
It is only when you seek
to digest others with your
envy that it becomes a sin.
The jealousy is not theirs,
it is yours.
Envy is not an enzyme:
It is food, and yours,
but if digested properly
and paired with the heart’s
aperitif, becomes quite
catalytic.